


In Your Eyes

by Arctic_Spaghetti



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Crack, Crack Written Seriously, Earth, Established Relationship, Galaxy Garrison, I'm Sorry, M/M, Post-season 7, Shiro has Self-Esteem Issues, Slav Makes It Better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 07:02:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15903270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arctic_Spaghetti/pseuds/Arctic_Spaghetti
Summary: I’m a bad egg. Hunk will never turn me into a beautiful pancake”, his voice dropping then to a whisper, as mascara tears dripped down his face.Shiro has some serious self-image issues. Slav uses his brilliant mind to create a device that allows Shiro to see himself, through his eyes, as the Adonis he is. (Alternatively: The Shlav angst with a happy ending crack one-shot you didn’t know you needed.)





	In Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome To My Twisted Mind.

  
They’ve had this argument before, but something in Slav knew that he couldn’t do it anymore. Afterwards Shiro with eyebags forming almost in real time, shuttered his eyes closed and sagged down to the floor, where he leaned the back of his head against the fluffy, glowing pink carpeted walls. At least the fuchsia décor ensured that Shiro was comfortable. Comfortable and safe. 

Iverson had almost popped a blood vessel and lost his other eye when he had opened his beak and demanded his exact room specifications. He had said that he would in no way be sticking around to help further the R&D at the Garrison if he and Shiro were not given a room that ensured a 99% probability of them not accidentally being brutally killed in. He took the liberty to make certain that only the softest and most incandescent material that he was able to obtain from their alien allies was used to danger proof their room. 

Shiro actually fell asleep like that, the glow of the Polluxian fur illuminating his face delicately, as if hesitant to touch such beauty. His shock of full white hair appeared bathed in rose water as his black eyeliner glittered. He still took Slav’s breath away every time, no matter what lighting dressed him, and even though he knew that in 6% of all realities he never gains his breath back and Shiro’s beauty actually kills him, it’s the one risk he’s willing to take. If only Shiro could see that. If only he could see himself properly. Slav felt the bitterness coming from the back of his dark, turtleneck protected throat as the memories of their all too familiar argument played through his head.

_ “You can do better, Slav.” _

_ “Yes I can do better at improving your inexplicably low self-esteem.” _

_ “It-it isn’t about that! You’re one of the greatest minds the universe has ever seen and somehow you were given a body that surpasses that.  You were even born with sexy brain wrinkles. You could be a space model Slav, you have snowy appendages hanging of your face more beautiful than any moon I’ve ever seen!” _

_ “What about you, you too have moon hair, my white samurai.” _

_ Shiro’s voice lowered, his expression morphing from exasperated to pinched, “I have grey hair Slav. Dead ash grey hair.” _

_ “Whatever it looks good!” Slav’s voice rang out, still a full octave higher in frustration. Shiro barked a bitter laugh, incredulously. _

_ “No one could find me attractive Slav, I’m as broken as the egg Hunk cracked this morning in the Garrison’s cafeteria kitchen. Except there aren’t any golden substances oozing out of me. I’m festering on the inside and should be thrown out. I’m a bad egg. Hunk will never turn me into a beautiful pancake.”, his voice dropping then to a whisper, as mascara tears dripped down his face.  _

_ Slav closed his eyes as the sparkles gleaming off Shiro’s obsidian tears were too blinding for his retinas to handle.  _ _   
_ _ “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you”. Slav’s beak quivered out sadly. Shiro offered only deafening silence as a response.  _

 

Slav thrummed his many fingers against his elongated torso, trying to decide which hand to gently stroke Shiro’s sleeping face with. That was always a battle.  _ What was the point? _ What was the point in having seven more arms than his beloved, when they still weren’t enough to hold him together. When Shiro looked in the mirror, he saw only his violent past shrouding his face. When he sees the long horizontal scar under his eyes he doesn’t see the combination of strength and delicacy it highlights in his features, only the blade that put it there. If only there was a way to take his own  eyes and stick them in Shiro’s big, beautiful primitive head so that he can see what he sees. He could suddenly feel his neurons firing rapidly behind his green neko ears.  _ Ohhhh yes yes yes _ . He had a plan.  

 

He explained it to them as sight-sharing lenses. Contact eye lenses that recorded and relayed whatever image its twin pair sent them. A strategic invention to optimise visual communication on the field. He started working on it immediately.

 

A week had passed and with it, the weather turned cold and bitter, emphasizing the distance created between them by the argument. Slav walked in to their room precariously balancing 11 blankets,the optimal number for anti-hypothermia, and in his free hand he held his prototype lenses in a rose gold sequined case. Shiro was staring out of their window and was cradling himself against the pink fur, the harsh winter sun encasing him in a halo.  _ His ethereal chrysanthemum. _

“Hey babe.”

Shiro turns to look at him, “Hello my little scarf.”

“Pretty ghost, I have something to show you,” he said as he arranged the blankets in the shape of Jupiter’s second moon, Europa’s orbit. 

“Oh, is this what you’ve been working on the last couple of days, my Senzu Bean™,” was Shiro’s reply as he joined Slav, sitting down cross-legged together.

“It’s just the prototype that I was hoping you would help me test out, my salted ice-cream.”

“UwU” said Shiro.

Slav took his mecha hand between three of his, ”They are sight-sharing lenses but I made them for more than just military purposes. I was thinking of a way to show you how perfect you are to me.”

Shiro’s expression darkened immediately and took his hand back. “Why do you keep bringing this up? We’ve established this already, I’m not worthy of you. You’re way out of my league, you’re the cheer captain and I’m the scarred weirdo sitting alone on the bleachers. I’m counting down the days till you wake up and find that what you’re looking for hasn’t been here this whole time.” 

“The only thing wrong with you is how you see yourself. There isn’t a single reality in which you aren’t beautiful, Takashi. These lenses tap into the neuro-visual perception centre of the brain and sends the image seen by the subject to the eyes of whoever’s wearing the corresponding lenses. I’m asking you to help me, Takashi. If you ever cared about me, you’d do just this one thing. It may not even work, I’m not asking you to change what you see instantly. But please. Try. For me.”

Shiro’s eyes softened and he let out a sigh. “Ok little bug, I’ll do it.” 

Shiro took the pretty case and pried it open tentatively. They each took a pair from the case and gently put them on for each other. With his back tensed, Shiro closed his eyes and waited while Slav set up the lenses so he could send his sight. 

“It’s all set now, my multiverse.” Slav softly murmured. “Look at me when you’re ready, my champion coat rack.”

After too many aching moments, he finally worked the courage to open his now incarnadine eyes. 

Shiro’s eyes widened. 

“Oh.” 

**Author's Note:**

> This crack fic is a product of overly active imagination and a Whatsapp conversation with a Red Velvet fanartist. I hope you've enjoyed it.


End file.
